


Salvaged

by Ovenbaked_Pizzas



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Primis Crew, i wanna fix that, love my stupid boys, takeo never gets much attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ovenbaked_Pizzas/pseuds/Ovenbaked_Pizzas
Summary: “Do you believe we will be able to save this world, Nikolai?” Takeo’s words were simple, but he didn’t miss the twitch in his friend’s brow.There was a moment of silence- save for the sound of Nikolai’s heels swinging into the concrete they hung off of, along with the whispers of the breeze. A single flower petal laid on Nikolai’s shoulder.“No, but the time we share now is nice.”---Hey! This is my first fic, and it certainly shows rip. Basically a different ending, this time more focused on Takeo's POV since he was kinda left in the dust. This is mostly focused on BO3's story line and just the ending of BO4,, gonna be real here and say I don't fully understand the middle of BO4 enough to write about it haha. There's some moments that don't take place in any specific maps, while there are some that do (Zetsubou No Shima, Gorod Krovi, mainly) so keep that in mind!
Relationships: "Tank" Dempsey/Edward Richtofen, Nikolai Belinski/Takeo Masaki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Salvaged

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I can't fix some of the spacing issues, so sorry if it looks a little funky at times!

Takeo looked up at the deep blue sky, admiring the few twinkling stars that peered over from the clouds. Wind gracefully shook the branches of the nearby trees as leaves fluttered to the ground. The moon was so bright it hurt to look at. Although the city had been abandoned for a long time, the glassy toppled buildings made a gorgeous picture, moonlight reflecting off them as shrubbery began to take over. Sighing, he gazed at his Russian partner, who was just as lost in the sight as he was.

“Do you believe we will be able to save this world, Nikolai?” Takeo’s words were simple, but he didn’t miss the twitch in his friend’s brow. 

There was a moment of silence- save for the sound of Nikolai’s heels swinging into the concrete they hung off of, along with the whispers of the breeze. A single flower petal laid on Nikolai’s shoulder. 

“No, but the time we share now is nice.”

Takeo didn’t know whether to frown or smile, so he glanced away, and stared back into the oblivion as he heard the clacking of heavy boots ease.

\---

Richtofen spoke in riddles. What few answers he gave always brought up inconsistencies and created further questions. Soon enough, the only one who really cared about the truth as Dempsey. 

“What do you think, Tak? Do you think he’s toying with us again?” Dempsey’s voice came out as a growl. His eyes were narrowed in a glare, and his fists were so white they could’ve blended in with snow. 

Nikolai huffed, crossing his arms, and looked back at Takeo, waiting. They were tricked, again. Well- tricked is a strong word. They were fooled, maybe. The Asian didn’t know what to make of their strange comrade, who had disappeared into the night for a breath of fresh air. 

Takeo didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. “I do not know.” 

Dempsey scoffed and kicked the ground, a puff of dust spraying from his foot. Pacing, Dempsey grumbled to himself, hands on hips, his gun holster outlined under the moonlight. Nikolai remained quiet as he closed his eyes. 

Takeo frowned. He often saw a strange dull spark in Richtofen’s eyes when he’d speak of their future, one that he couldn’t decipher. It felt otherworldly. There was always an aurora about the German scientist, a dim shine that would surround him, and occasionally Takeo would swear he saw hands, ripping and pulling at his skin, his clothes, his book- only to blink and they’d be gone. Sometimes he’d even have to do a double take to see if he was breathing. Richtofen held himself like a corpse; he never moved naturally, controlled robotically by some other power. 

He wasn’t confident in his perspective of the other man; certainly his teammates would call him crazy for seeing such things. However, he was positive Richtofen at least felt it- the way he’d jerk in his sleep, whisper names of beings Takeo never heard of, sudden shivers that would ripple down his spine- he felt the grasping of fate and he let it take its course.

Whenever he thought of such things, he was reminded of his conversation with Nikolai on the roof. Nikolai didn’t put much faith in the German. They were two opposite sides of the spectrum, Takeo noted- Nikolai didn’t believe there was anything to save, he didn’t think it was possible, he didn’t think there was such a thing as a happy ending. Meanwhile, Richtofen gave up his soul to save the world. It was clear by the graying hairs and eyebags Richtofen’s body was breaking down from the sheer weight of it all. 

After the German returned and everyone was divided into their sleeping quarters, Takeo stepped outside to get a look at the moon once more. It wasn’t bloated like it was the night where they camped at the city. It was smaller, frailer.

Heavy footsteps trailed after his. “How do you really feel about the German?” His booming voice shook the trees. 

Takeo stiffened. Exhaling, his head lowered, and his brows knitted down. 

“He is plagued by fate. He is so determined to make things right they’re crumbling apart. He can’t tell because he is blinded by his own beliefs, but there’s a price to pay, dealing with such evils. When the world is saved, he will be the first to suffer from it.”

“‘When’? There is nothing to fix this. The universe is so fucked from his past doings, there isn’t a way in hell for us to get out of this. He’s leading us to our deathbeds.” “He has lost as much as we have, if not more. He wants to set things right.” 

“Who is it all for? Us or for his own personal gain? Why should I care what he’s lost when he’s the reason we’re all damned? He’s given us nothing but pain.”

“Nikolai, do you really believe we’re doomed for the rest of eternity like this? You’ve seen the lengths we’ve had to go to; what is the point of it all if it’s for nothing?” Takeo whirled around, striding towards the Russian. Nikolai jolted back as Takeo crammed his finger into his chest. 

“We are not dying. Not from Richtofen, not from zombies, not from fate. We’re pulling through this and we’re seeing the end of this hell.” 

Silence covered the air like a blanket. For a moment, all that could be heard was the rustling of leaves and their harsh, ragged breaths in the bone chilling night. They didn’t break eye contact.

Finally, Nikolai opened his mouth to speak. 

“I’m glad you’re my comrade, Takeo.” 

As they stood, watching the clouds drift by, counting each star and drawing fake constellations, Takeo realized how different their relationship could’ve been if they weren’t soldiers. 

\---

“It won’t stop bleeding,” Richtofen heaved, his hands lagged as he scavenged through the medical kit. 

All Takeo could hear was the blood roaring in his ears and the shrieks of gunfire. Remaining crouched, watching the doctor work, jaw slacked and feet frozen in place, his sights were transfixed on the gorey mess that laid in front of him. His forehead was burning up, but his body was shivering. It didn’t feel like he was breathing, yet his chest was still tightly expanding. 

Nikolai’s side was torn. Blood was spewing fast. Red, red, red. It poured in an irregular circle, crooked at the sides, dribbling down with the floor.  
Dempsey was covering them, firing off into the hoards of the undead, sweat ever-so-visibly dripping to his boots. Teeth bared, he did what a soldier would do, and defended his teammates.

Takeo couldn’t bring himself to fight alongside the American. He knew he should- he had to help his friends, he had to defend Nikolai, he had to provide cover for Richtofen, but the faint gasps escaping the Russian’s lips were his lifeline. 

Suddenly Dempsey had him by the shoulder, dragging him through the corridors as the setting became a blur, Richtofen holding a fairly large body in his arms.

Howls of undead echoed behind them. Footsteps thundered through the facility. Takeo’s heart was beating far too fast. His head hurt. He couldn’t tell where they were going. With a rough push, Takeo was forced through a doorway, as Dempsey slammed the door shut, quickly barricading it with several shelves and a table. Takeo stumbled, his legs beginning to give out, as Dempsey grabbed him once more by the collar of his shirt, forcing him upright. 

“Christ, Tak, get your fucking head back. We almost died back there because of both of your slip ups-”

Richtofen shot up from attending to Nikolai, giving Dempsey a stern glare. Dempsey grew silent, and lolled his head to the side, placing his hands on his hips, slumping his shoulders. Richtofen continued with his work.

“Er, I mean, calm down Tak. He’ll be just fine.” Dempsey offered an awkward pat on his shoulder and stepped away, walking to the farthest corner and lit a cigarette. Takeo just stood in the middle of the room, not even watching the German do his procedures, just staring into the walls, thoughts rampaging through the forced silence. “He’ll- he’ll be okay, won’t he?” Takeo’s voice was rusty.

“He’s lost a lot of blood and we’re limited on supplies. However, we’ve survived worse than this. I’m sure he’ll pull through.” Richtofen flashed a small smile. His own hands were jittery, bloodsoaked, damned- but glimpses of hands tugging them led him back to Nikolai’s body, finishing the stitches. 

When the doctor was done, as a group they decided to spend the night in the room until the next morning, or whatever felt like next morning. Nikolai remained asleep. Takeo sat next to his Russian comrade, unable to join in any argument the other two would find themselves in. As hours passed, Richtofen and Dempsey fell asleep in the opposite corners of each other, while Takeo continued to watch over Nikolai. 

Although he was determined to stay awake, Takeo felt himself nodding off. The lack of a proper threat was a peaceful thought. For a moment, his head slumped, eyes fluttering shut, but he jolted awake immediately at the presence of another being in the room. Soft footsteps reached his ears. Grasping for his weapon, Takeo was about to shout for the others, when a shining outline of a figure brushed it’s fingers over Nikolai’s shoulder-

Then it was gone.

Nikolai burst into a fit of coughing. Richtofen immediately shot up and sprinted to his patient, Takeo watching in awe. He doubled over, wheezing, as Takeo patted his back and whispered comforting phrases to his comrade, while Richtofen popped open his medical supplies kit and tended to the now open wound.

Once again, Richtofen restitched the gash in his side, while Nikolai asked the basic questions- “what happened while I was gone?”- “how long was I asleep?”- “where are we?”- all to which Takeo replied quickly and soothingly. After another hour, the doctor went back to sleep, and Nikolai and Takeo talked in hushed tones to avoid disturbing the others.

“You worried me there, Nikolai.” Takeo turned away with a sigh. “I didn’t think you were going to recover.”

Nikolai chuckled, winking, and slapped his hand on Takeo’s shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. I am too strong to die from a worthless hell-pig.” 

Takeo’s lips curved in a crooked smile. “Yes, but accidents can happen.”

“I’m too good for accidents.” 

“Lies.”

“Hey! I’m the strongest fighter here! I could beat you in a fight with one arm tied behind my back.”

“I strongly disagree.”

The two laughed under their breath. After a moment of comfortable silence, grunting, Nikolai attempted to sit up, resulting in Takeo pushing him down. “Don’t, you’ll open your stitches.”

“But I want to see you better.” The Russian cocked his head, his ocean blue eyes glimmering brightly under the dim light. 

Takeo felt a flush burn around his cheeks. Trying to shake it off, he continued, “you can’t see me if you’re dead from bleeding out.” 

Nikolai pouted. “No fun.” He turned away, crossing his arms with a huff.

Takeo smiled again. “You’ll see me better tomorrow.”

The Russian grumbled something under his breath, before letting out a yawn. It was probably late, and they weren’t going to have much time to get their bearings straight in the morning. Maybe he could sleep now that he knew his friend was okay.

“I wanted to show you something.” He hummed. Takeo perked up as he heard the sound of Nikolai shuffling around in his pockets. Finally, after a good minute, Nikolai pulled out something; cupping it with his hands.

Moving it to Takeo’s side, he carefully placed it on Takeo’s palm, their skin brushing against each other for a second, and grinned. “Found this earlier. Thought you would like it. It reminded me of you.”

Feeling his cheeks heat up once more, Takeo’s eyes widened. A white, pretty flower brushed against his fingertips. The petals were soft compared to his calloused hands. Although it was gorgeous, it was missing a few petals- making it appear like it had been ripped apart. One of the bigger ones was chipped.

“Thank you, Nikolai.” Takeo spoke slowly, so fixated on the gift. It felt like sunshine in his palms, white glowing so brightly in their dark little room.

“Of course,” Nikolai said softly. “Goodnight, Takeo.”

The Russian laid on his good side with a grunt, and soon his chest began to rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. Muffled snores filled the room. 

Takeo spent the rest of the night staring at his present. When the morning came, he gently placed it in his pocket, hiding it before the others could see.

\---

Takeo didn’t know what to think of the world anymore. After chasing something for so long, how could it have been a lie? How could the stars have been so cruel? What did he do wrong?

Thick branches groaned with the howls of the breeze. Vines and thistles sprouted in crooked, misshapen directions, suffocating the trunks of trees so tall that he couldn’t see the sky. Corrupted birds shrieked as the flapping of wings faded into the distance. Spiders would be seen hiding in the depths of dead logs, burrowing themselves in deep covers of moss. Glowing mushrooms lit the wildlife with hues of neon greens and blues and the occasional yellow. It would’ve been a strangely beautiful sight if Takeo’s mind wasn’t in shambles.

Watching his other self die in such a grim way had struck a chord deep in him; and he didn’t know how to fix it. Why was he destined to be damned in such an unjust way? How could the world have been so unfair? How could he have been wrong?

Burying his head in his hands, Takeo let out a dry sob. There were no tears, no real cries left; he had nothing left to give. Maybe that was a victory on it’s own; the emperor didn’t deserve his grief. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing how distraught he was. He’d make fucking sure of it.

“Are you okay, comrade?” The Russian’s thick accent was normally comforting, but as of right now, Takeo just wanted to be alone. Any sound irritated him to no end; all he could hear was the slicing of skin with his blade and the crumple of an old body.

“Yes. You can leave now.” 

“I don’t think that would be wise.” 

With a grunt, Nikolai plopped down next to the Asian, swinging his legs over the edge of the facility. The Russian smelled of flowers and blood.

“I don’t need guidance right now, Nikolai-”

“I’m not here for guidance. I’m just as lost as you. What happened today was… cruel.”

Takeo let out a bark of laughter. “Cruel? I’ve wasted so many years of my life, I’ve sacrificed breath after breath, spent countless nights wasting away in condemned buildings flooded with undead, only to learn it was all for nothing. I was betrayed. I was backstabbed. I was taken advantage of. I was used. There is nothing left for me.” He spat out each word like it was a bitter taste on his tongue, his fingers clutching onto the soggy grass, teeth bared, shoulders stiffening. How could it have all gone so wrong? Was the world worth saving? 

“You have plenty left to live for, comrade.” Nikolai’s normally gruff voice was softened. Every word he spoke had a gentleness, an echo of a similar pain. 

“I was abandoned as well. The world doesn’t always play fair. Sometimes, you lose things- people, even- without reason. It isn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it. It just happens.” 

Takeo felt his frown deepen. It was getting increasingly hard to listen to the Russian’s words, and even more so to hide his grief.

“What is left for me here?” Takeo sighed. Dipping his head, avoiding the other’s gaze, he exhaled. “I’ve lost what I was fighting for.”

Nikolai’s eyes glinted in a muddled frustration. “You are worth so much more than what any emperor may think. Why do you base your keep off of what your nation believes?”

“They were all I had. I’ve been alone from the start.” Takeo felt anger bubbling in his stomach. Nikolai didn’t know what it was like to be alone; to face such a harsh betrayal from someone he looked up to- how could he talk so lightly of his problems?

“Why can’t you see you’re not alone?” The Russian was shouting now. Takeo got to his feet, about to march away, when Nikolai grabbed his shoulder roughly, pulling him back. Aggressively shoving his hand off, he attempted once more to leave, only for the Russian to dart in front of him. 

“You aren’t alone, Takeo!” He snapped. Looking at his eyes, Takeo saw a mix of both anger and sadness; and what almost seemed like fear. His tone was more pleading now.

“Why do you care?” Takeo hissed. 

“Because-” Nikolai opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, and opened it again. No words came out; it was just silence. Waiting, Takeo watched in confusion as the Russian struggled to gain control over his thoughts. 

The larger man sighed. “I care about you, deeply. More than you could ever realize.” His tone was once again soft; defeated. 

Takeo blinked. A wave of confusion washed over him.

“I care about you too, Nikolai-”

“I don’t mean as a comrade.” Nikolai lowered his head, his gaze refusing to meet his. 

Oh. Takeo was suddenly aware of how sweaty and muddy he was. His face was like a furnace; flames lapping at his cheeks. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he didn’t know what to say. His entire body was fidgeting under it’s skin; was it excitement or fear eating away at him? Was it relief that battered at the edges of his mind?

“I like you, Nikolai. The same way you like me.” The words came out slow; as if there was a rock edged in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to say anything.” He finished. Closing his eyes, he gained his senses back, and turned to face the Russian.

As he tried to catch his eye, Nikolai moved forward, and pressed his lips against Takeo’s. They kissed, and for what felt like an eternity, Takeo felt the thudding in his heart dissipate into a steady beat, a sense of calm, a breath of fresh air in madness- he felt clearity again. 

While Nikolai slowly pulled away, they caught their breath; soaking in the new curiosity that formed over the air. Finally, it was something that he didn’t need to run from, or hide, or fight; he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t going to die forgotten. He found a true ally. 

“We’re- together now, right?” Nikolai chuckled awkwardly. Takeo grinned, feeling a welcome blush sprout on his face.

“Yes, we are.” He kissed his partner again. 

The rest of the night was spent in simple conversation. No zombies were mentioned, or mad German scientists, or loud-mouthed Americans, no saving the world- just what lied between them and what they had to explore. As they fell asleep, the last thing Takeo saw was a fully bloomed flower; it’s white hues scaring away the twisted green, and it rested casually on Nikolai’s back. 

\---

Fresh blood was soaked in Nikolai’s beard, his hand going limp. The other hand gripped his gun tighter; head hanging low. 

His other self let out a cry, all movements silenced by a single gunshot. As the other’s head lolled to the side, Takeo noticed the dribble of vodka running down the corner of his lips, which had been tainted with red. Takeo couldn’t tell if Nikolai knew the other version shot him for the purpose of aggravating him into firing, or if Nikolai chose to ignore it. 

Placing his hand gently on Nikolai’s shoulder, Nikolai froze before melting into the touch, slumping his shoulders.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like that.” He muttered. Takeo nodded solemnly. 

As Richtofen harnessed the other’s soul, Nikolai stepped away, not offering a word to anyone. Watching him go, Takeo felt what little hope he had for saving the world ebb away. Why were they all condemned to these conditions? Why were they forced to lose so much?

While Richtofen and Dempsey spoke quietly amongst each other, Takeo glanced back at the corpse. It was strange how little the two had in common, despite them being the same person. 

As his gaze wandered over the differences, he blinked. Blurry, shifting figures were standing over the body, watching, as if they were gloating over their kill. Before he could step forward, they turned to him, expressions blank. He waited for them to speak or move; finding it suddenly hard to breathe. But instead, they moved their heads up, looking off into the distance. For a moment too long, they stared, and with an inhale, they were gone.

Takeo whirled around to see what they were admiring- only to see Nikolai, hunched over, sitting by a fire, poking at it with the barrel of his gun. 

\---

Dempsey spent more time with Richtofen than he used to. Gone were the deep, ashed eyebags, the mechanical movement, the jittery malfunctioning hands- the German’s rhythm had returned, almost as if he gained his soul back. He moved in smooth, fluid motions, his expressions no longer carved in stone. Whatever aurora separated him from humanity had dissipated. 

That wasn’t to say he never felt stressed, the entire group had certainly felt their hardships within the past few days, but he was much more vibrant now. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

The American was practically attached to his hip. Together, they’d share laughs, smiles, drunken courses of slurred speech and clapping each other on the back- they had resorted back to their prideful selves, before the zombie outbreak. Takeo had suspected for a while there were some… feelings they shared that were exclusive to them. Some mornings he’d find them closer when they thought no one was around. He’d never seen the doctor so at peace. Takeo would’ve been happy for Richtofen, he really would have, if Nikolai hadn’t changed at the same time.

Whatever stubborn opposition Nikolai had with Takeo’s views had vanished. Gone were the winks he’d throw at the Asian when he thought nobody would notice, gone were the dizzy nights where they’d sleep tangled in each other’s limbs, gone were the loud snores he’d wake up to, gone were the witty remarks he’d belch in battle. It was all gone.

The Russian was more jaded now. Sadness would be flooding his eyes, drowning out the crushing waves of blue that used to have a sense of clarity- what replaced them was a dull starlight gray, that would only ever shimmer when he’d read that forsaken book. The bruising purple bags under his eyes would’ve complimented the blue so much better.

They don’t talk about it. It’s difficult to find time to be around each other these days. Every night for endless hours he’d gaze at the stars, murmuring inconsistent ramblings of a ghost. Even then, when Takeo would catch him on a good time, all he could ever seem to speak about was saving their souls and their determined fates. 

As Takeo would approach him in the night, he’d see the shine that previously haunted Richtofen. This time, it was much more vivid, blinking, unstable- flames of it would crash amongst each other- and when Takeo would rub his eyes in disbelief, it’d be gone. Then, Nikolai would turn back, a small, flat smile would be plastered on his face, and he’d ask, “what’s wrong, my comrade?” 

And each time, Takeo would look away and stalk back into the shadows he came from without reply. As his figure would fade in the distance, Takeo would risk a glance back, begging, pleading for a change, for a call, for a genuine, human reaction- only to see those goddamn hands, now tearing Nikolai’s skin. 

\---

Fumbling through the pages, Takeo cursed under his breath, beads of sweat pooling on his forehead. Hands so shaken that he couldn’t hold the fucking book straight, his vision was swirling; hot, burning anger firing through his veins. 

Biting his lip so hard he drew blood, he tried not to scream. Throwing the book on the ground, hands digging through his hair, he cried out, falling to his knees. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Now he shared the sadness buried in Richtofen’s skull, the emptiness behind his words, how sometimes he’d grow silent for no reason at all- it wasn’t fair.

They worked so hard. They sacrificed so much. They lost everything. They had tried, so many times, bloodied and battered they’d pulled through- this isn’t how it ended. It couldn’t be. The book had changed once; it had to change again. 

Aware that he wasn’t alone, he snapped his eyes up, watching as the figures approached him. They bore no expression.

“IS THIS RIGHT TO YOU?” Takeo bellowed. He could smell blood. 

“ALL OF THIS PAIN FOR NOTHING? ALL OF THIS SUFFERING- BLOODSHED, INSANITY, DEATH- FOR US TO DIE IN THE END? FROM EACH OTHER?” 

Figure after figure is staring at him, faces stone cold, watching the man weep. As each second passed, another formed.

“THIS ISN’T FAIR! WE DID EVERYTHING YOU ASKED!” Hanging his head low, he struggled to control his breathing, ragged, harsh breaths escaping his lips like prey running from a hunter. He didn’t want this. 

One figure turns to look at the book. Others are now closing in on Takeo, eyes suddenly widened and mouths moving, exclaiming phrases he’s blocking out, frantic and robotic movements trying to grab him. 

Instead, Takeo inhales. Closes his eyes. Hesitates. Then exhales, moving his chest up. Surprisingly, they were still there. As he begins to stand, one grips his leg, shouting. 

Takeo kicks it away with a growl. “Get away from me.” His voice is shaky. Although the tears have stopped flowing, he feels his sluggish moments, his limbs trying to resist his own actions. 

“LEAVE.” His voice thunders in the sky. One moment they’re surrounding him, pleading, and the next they’ve vanished, the world quiet. 

He picks up the book, shoving it in the largest pocket on his belt, and shakily takes his pistol out of it’s holster.

\---

The gun felt large in his hand. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. Kneeling in front of the corpse, a perfect circle of blood pooled from below the other’s head. It reeked of metal. Along with the gun, the Kronorium anchored his leg to the ground. His body was suddenly very, very heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

But there was work to be done. He couldn’t mourn here. Grabbing at his sides mindlessly, he felt a shape in his pocket, only to pull out the flower the Russian had given him all those nights ago. There was blood splatters on it now; tainting the once beautiful white with a misshapen, ugly crimson. 

Clicking his tongue, he winced, and turned away. It was hard to look at it.

Richtofen was the easiest to dispose of. Takeo felt as if he was doing the doctor a favor; his life was plagued with suffering, and now he had an easy, painless escape. Besides, the German was going to a better place anyways; it was his alternate dimension counterpart that brought on their hell, therefore this Richtofen was in the clear. Besides, all he ever tried to do was the right thing. Takeo could respect that. He only hoped judgement wasn’t too harsh on him, despite the lies and confusion he had brought about his teammates; there wasn’t anything that could’ve prevented that.

Dempsey was slightly harder. Dempsey looked out for them all in ways Richtofen couldn’t. They were so different from each other, Dempsey was constantly begging for answers while Richtofen hid them. Although he was brash and violent, he only ever did what he did in hope for a better tomorrow. The American was always nice to him. It was sad, knowing the soldier wasn’t going out with a fight, but sacrifices had to be made. He hoped he found peace wherever the afterlife took him.

Looking at the body that laid in front of him, Takeo felt his chest swell. Nikolai’s was the hardest. He didn’t deserve any of it. He didn’t deserve to go out this way. He was supposed to be happy, he was supposed to be by his side, he was supposed to be loved, but it was all brought to a crashing halt. Takeo felt guilty at first, for stealing his book, but now he was glad.

He was going to make things right. Placing the flower on Nikolai’s chest, he bit back a wail, and averted his eyes from the growing blood puddle. Taking the teleportation device Richtofen had, he created a portal. With a final glance at Nikolai, he sighed, and stepped in, determined to change all of their fates.

\---

“Do you believe we will be able to save this world, Takeo?” Nikolai’s words were simple, but he didn’t miss the sudden flinch in Takeo’s posture. 

There was a moment of silence- save for the sound of Nikolai’s heels swinging into the concrete they hung off of, along with the whispers of the breeze. Takeo reached forward and dusted a flower petal off of Nikolai’s shoulder. 

“No, but the time we share now is nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the ending was confusing! Basically Takeo dimension jumps and replaces himself, over and over, reliving the same memories until he can find a way where they all get out alive and have their happy endings. He swiped the kronorium from Nik and figured out what had to happen and decided to make things go his own way. The figures are supposed to represent destiny, so what they are "exactly" is up for interpretation :) I like to imagine they're the lost souls of zombies they've slaughtered or somethin. Thank y'all for reading!


End file.
